from my knees grew flowers
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Bucky picks at the delicate fabric to reveal a silken black lining underneath. He holds it up in front of him and suddenly it’s like he can see himself looking at it, like he’s in a department store picking out his size, wondering if he should take it to a fitting room. He wants to hold it against his body, low on his hips.
Bucky drops the skirt like it's caught on fire.
“Uh,” he calls out, panicked and wavery.
Then he stops because he doesn’t know what to say now, or even that he wants to say it.
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- Part 1 of from my knees grew flowers
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He could do this, Steve thinks, deciding to settle on the bed and calm his rearing horses down. He could wait God knows how long while God knows what was happening to Bucky and not touch his dick. This was a thing Steve could do.
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- Part 3 of from my knees grew flowers